


The Deciding Game

by Capucine



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Avox, Corruption, Demisexual Character, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Freedom Fighters, Fucked Up, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character Death, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Polyfidelity, Revolution, Sexual Assault, Threesome - F/F/M, mute character, onesided feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5037400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capucine/pseuds/Capucine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the world of Panem, in which Katniss Everdeen may exist, but never needed to step up as tribute, or perhaps never existed at all, Bruce Wayne is living a double life in the Capitol. He is a party boy by day, but by night, the Batman--a tireless shadow in the night that is working to bring down the Capitol.</p>
<p>With his many accomplices and a dark, twisted past and plan for the future, Batman might, maybe, stand a chance in bringing down the rulers of Panem. But with the things his own team is going through, the obstacles they face, and the difficulty of getting a sizeable rebellion on their side, can it be done?</p>
<p>Or would the world have been much better off galvanized by the Mockingjay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was a story I had on Fanfiction.net. It was...highly neglected there. Very poor system for crossovers in general.
> 
> Here are the two chapters I wrote; we'll just have to see if there's any interest. :) Hope you like it!

They called him the Batman.

He was a mysterious figure, cloaked and shielded by invisibility technology, who cut in and out of the Capitol's plans.

He was strong as a bear, wily as a fox, and quieter than an owl on the wing. There were rumors he could see through the night like his namesake, the bat, and that he had no difficulties fighting anything the Capitol should throw at him.

He could even scale the electric fences at the borders of the Districts, and evade the other security measures.

But to several people, he was more than that. And to those who did not know his identity, he was something far different than a mysterious man to be feared.

Bruce Wayne was that man. So was Batman. And so much more was to befall him and his own.

\---

It was a quiet day at the Wayne mansion. Granted, most Capitol citizens lived in splendor, but he did in an even grander way, a way that made him somewhat sick.

Today, Bruce Wayne entertained two beautiful ladies, one with a peacock tattoo that snaked from her right hip up to cover her eyes with the 'eyes' of the peacock feathers. She could see just fine, of course. The other had hair in a puffy baby blue fluff, made to look like a cloud. Her eyes were dotted with small gemstones, and her lipstick was blue.

Bruce Wayne entertained ladies like these all the time.

Batman quietly endured such people.

Still, Bruce smiled and gestured Alfred, as they sat in the crystal clear scallop-shaped pool. "Alfred! Please get me and these lovely ladies here some more wine!"

His was alcohol-free, as Batman could not afford to either be drunk or have a hangover. Theirs, however...fairly strong stuff. Not designed to act as a drug or something like that, or be dangerous due to its alcohol content, but it tended to get them pretty blackout drunk fast.

Cloud-hair girl giggled, and put her hands on Bruce's muscular arms, covered by a tight full body suit. "Oh, Brucey, if only we could get this off you," she said, angling herself to show off her cleavage, amply displayed by her bandeau bikini.

Peacock-girl hiked one leg up over Bruce's, angling closer. "I'd really like to show you how..." she giggled, "gentle I can be with you."

"Well, ladies," Bruce said, throwing his arms around them, "Maybe we can see what happens."

The truth was, the bathing suit was not coming off. The other truth was, no one was going to prove how 'gentle' they could be with Bruce. But he figured once they were drunk enough, he could send them home in a special vehicle, pearly blue and widely known to be his mode of transportation.

For that was what Bruce was known as: a party boy. But then, so was half the city, so he had to be particularly spectacular.

"Ladies," he said, "I was thinking of having a live white lion at my next party. You know how I like big cats."

"Oh, meow," Cloud-hair purred, giggling and getting closer to him.

Peacock-girl playfully bit his ear, not so it hurt, but obviously trying to win him over.

He smiled charmingly at them. Granted, he only needed so much charm, since his money pretty much did that for him, but he definitely didn't want anyone to think there was much more than a vapid, spoiled brat beneath the party-boy face. "So, you'll both be there, right?"

"Yes, of course," Peacock-girl said, breathing on his ear. "I'd always be there for you, Brucey."

Cloud-hair smiled back at him. "I'd do anything to be around you."

That was when Alfred brought the wine.

It only took about an hour of cat-and-mouse until they were too silly drunk to carry on, and so Bruce kissed them both good night and sent them home. He was somewhat relieved, but knew this meant that the maintaining the party-boy image part of the day was over.

Now for some real work.

\---

"I'm serious, though," Barbara said, wearing her black suit; the mask was not quite pulled over her eyes. "We need to expand to District 12. I heard things have gotten worse there, and you know that if we can get some food supplies there, we can get them on our side."

Barbara Gordon was the daughter of the Chief of Peace of the Capitol. Not the Peace Keeper Chief, but the one who led the significantly less violent Peace Keepers in the Capitol. Because there was definitely crime, in spite of the supposed perfection of the society.

Bruce glanced over, also in his suit. He had designed them, and they all were made to blend in when signaled to by the body. This was the infamous invisibility of the Bat family. "I don't know. We have a pretty small group to work with, Barbara."

"Yeah, I know. But Tim, Stephanie, Jason, and Cassandra totally have this. They can do it, Bruce," Barbara insisted.

"Cassandra and Tim are in District 6 right now," Bruce said, flipping through the large touch screen in the bat-cave. "Stephanie is in District 2. And Jason has recently left to head to District 10. None of them are available, Barbara."

Barbara seemed to deflate a little at that. She sighed. "Then send me."

"Your father will be expecting you home in the morning," Bruce said, "It just can't happen yet." He turned towards her, seeing the frustrated look on her face. "Why are you pushing this?"

Barbara sighed. "It's getting to be that time of year again. I just... I want it to stop."

The Hunger Games. They loomed every year, a celebration of violence and death that pained every member of the Bat family. They knew they couldn't stop it, not yet. And yet, Barbara still had the hope every year that they could disrupt enough to stop the Games.

Bruce nodded, turning back to his screen. "I know. I do too."

He wished he had that kind of power. He knew he might eventually. But now was not that time.

The 74th Hunger Games?

They were going to take place, like it or not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief scene in which Tim and Cass return home from their mission.

Revolution does not happen when a single, uneducated person finds discontent. It does not even happen when this person is driven mad by grief or rage, and gets others to join him.

No. That was just rebellion on a small scale, something easily squashed that would set the powers that be on edge for a while.

A revolution had to have something, someone backing it who had relative power, or the opportunity to have power. Take any rightful-heir-to-the-throne that had taken his country into a civil war. Look at any successful revolution.

And Batman, in conjunction with other powers that existed on his side, intended to be at least a catalyst. He did not want to be the face or the leader, but he was a man dedicated to a cause, the freedom and eventual security of the people. Most importantly, to justice.

Now, he sat in front of the screen of his bunker, filled when the empty cave was drilled into and reasoned to be the perfect hideout. It was fitted with lights that glowed, so it wasn't too harsh, a training area with a thick foam floor and padded walls, all manner of weapons that were definitely not guns, and of course, the huge computer technology.

It wasn't that computers took up a lot of space. In fact, they tended to be quite tiny. Instead, it was that Bruce needed as much storage space and processing as possible, far greater than any government computer had. Not only was the computer a way for him to keep track of everything going on, but it was also an archive.

So much of the history had been lost, and intentionally blurred out, when Panem was founded. He had set his young charges researching copiously before they were ready for field work, feeling it would sharpen their minds and do the country the favor of preserving world history.

They had snippets on the War of the Roses, a brief list of the former peoples of the former Yugoslavia, a detailed description of fascist Romania, an unfortunate amount of information on castration throughout history (morbid curiosity and amazing research skills), a telling of the story of the first Shogun of united Japan (and his wife and brother), a lot of atlases telling how the world had once looked, and a full book on the Marquis de Lafayette of the Revolutionary War in the United States of America (and subsequently the French Revolution, which was much more unfortunate for him), among many other small snippets. Those were the biggest pieces.

A lot of these sources had helped Bruce shape his idea of what the world should be like, and how they should react to the Capitol's blatant evils. It also made him wonder a lot what had happened to the rest of the world, and whether there were people in other parts, but that was something that would have to wait.

The shink of the elevator opening told him he was no longer alone.

"Bruce! You'll never believe it, you should have seen Cass!" Tim, ever bubbly, came running out of the elevator. He was grinning, every inch a fourteen year old.

Bruce watched both. Cass and Tim were both adopted, as all his children were. He wasn't prone to wondering what biological children would be like.

"We were gong over the fence when I slipped, and-"

Bruce stood abruptly, eyeing Tim a bit more critically now. "Are you hurt?"

"Well, my ankle hurts a bit, but get this, I'm freefalling towards the ground for like a millisecond before she grabs my ankle and gets me latched back on to the fence!" He sounded proud of her, and Cass had not taken off her mask yet, so there was no reading her expression.

Bruce gave his adopted son a stern expression. "I'm glad Cass saved you, but you should have been more careful. If you got caught there, we would have been in a lot of trouble."

The grin faltered, then disappeared. "Yeah... Sorry."

"Don't say sorry, just do better." Bruce patted the medical table set apart. It had the latest technologies for healing, and though it was probably just a bruised ankle, there was no way he was going to take a risk.

With that, anyway.

Tim jumped up, his black-yellow-red suit already peeled back from his ankle. "It's not anything bad, I swear."

There was a distinct purpling bruise. It had probably taken a very tight hold for Cassandra to hold Tim up, and considering they were likely many feet up if she'd reacted like this, he was grateful she had the reflexes she did. "Good job, Cass."

Cass had taken off her mask, and she gave a sort of small smile.

Bruce took an injector, one meant to clear up bruises. Why did such a thing exist in their society? Because some people liked to get rough in certain activities, and they definitely didn't want anyone to know or having marring marks. Well, mostly the marring marks part.

Granted, he wasn't complaining. It made hiding being vigilantes of sorts much easier.

He didn't like to think what else it made hiding easier.

Tim hissed as the injector pierced his skin, but it was a minor thing. He was quickly talking again. "We saw the first informant again. He was kinda frantic about the upcoming Games. He was saying he had a kid who was entered this year, and I told him there wasn't anything we could really do. I wish there was something we could do." His face was in a frown, and it was clear he felt like he ought to be swooping in and saving the day.

That was a notion Bruce was careful to keep out of his kids' heads.

"We do what we can, Tim. Someday, things will change, but we can't push them before we're ready," Bruce said solemnly, as much as he wanted to make a move before that himself.

The bruise had disappeared completely by now. Tim rolled his ankle experimentally, then hopped down.

"When is Jason getting back?" Cassandra wanted to know, unpinning her black hair. It was also orange, streaked like a tiger's stripes. Like any of them, she had to blend in to Capitol society, and ironically, that meant standing out among normal folks.

"It shouldn't take him long," Bruce said, sighing a bit.

He worried about Jason. Things had gone wrong before, and if there was anyone who was going to get in trouble, it was Jason. He was bullheaded, easily angry, and had a habit of not obeying orders.

It made Bruce briefly remember his various adoptions. The first son, everyone had lauded his great humanitarian effort, even if they found it a little strange.

By Cass and Stephanie, who were adopted not long after Tim, there were rather loud rumors of an obscene pedophilic harem going on behind the Wayne manor walls. Who in their right mind would want so many kids unless they wanted them for nefarious reasons? A lot of people, a disturbing amount of people, defended him, not by saying he was a good man who wouldn't do that, but by saying that he didn't do anything else wrong and he was important in society and if he wanted a little stress release with kids no one wanted anyway, what was the big deal? They weren't tiny children either, these people argued, and besides, he was doing them a favor by putting them in such presumably pampered lives. They owed him.

While it made Bruce rage inside to even hear such things, outside he acted oblivious to it. In a District, there might be a huge row about it. There might even be a hanging or an execution. But here in the Capitol, all kinds of perversions went unchecked, if they were the right people.

He already knew about the prostitution-in-all-but-name of Games winners. That was just the tip of the iceberg in a culture that only cared about its own gratification.

"Do we have another party tomorrow?" Tim wanted to know, sounding a bit bored at the prospect. No doubt he would be on his best behavior and be a sparkling example of a charismatic host, but that didn't mean he wanted to be there.

"Unfortunately, yes. I'm taking you and Cassandra, since you'll be here." Bruce typed away at the computer, double-checking the precise locations of Stephanie and Jason.

Sometimes, he told himself he worried about them for the mission. Other times, he admitted he was a father and that meant that worrying came with the territory.

Cassandra looked put out, as much as she ever did. She wasn't all that expressive.

But of course, after her intense retraining, Bruce had learned to recognize everything. "It's only a short, day-party. It celebrates someone's dog's birthday."

Tim and Cassandra exchanged relieved glances. It was definitely much nicer to not have to gorge themselves and vomit it back up multiple times throughout the night (because they noticed if you did not). A day-party was not quite as heavy on the food.

"Go to bed," Bruce said, not in a commanding way, but in a way that told his acknowledgment of their long journey and likely exhaustion.

Both headed for their private bedrooms.

Bruce was up not too much longer, because he knew the importance of a sleep schedule, but he still watched those blinking blue dots that represented Stephanie and Jason for a while.

Neither of them had better blink out.

He didn't think he could deal with that again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for discussion of sex and mild sexual content, as well as views that might offend concerning abortion. I dunno. Personally, I don't quite fit Bruce's view, in this story, but that's the magic of writing. ;)
> 
> All I have to say regarding the sex stuff: teenagers.

The problem with having a house full of teenagers had quickly presented itself.

Bruce knew with absolute certainty only one of his adopted brood was still a virgin—and he knew the first two weren't because he'd literally walked in on them. The others were...somewhat obvious.

Jason had been rather willfully defiant and come home trumpeting about 'becoming a man, Bruce' at about fifteen or so. There'd been a smirky grin on his face, a challenge of, 'So, what are you going to do about it, shut me away?'

He hadn't then.

Cass had been a special case. She'd very clearly been crushing on Stephanie from early on, and things had snowballed from there. They had been all over each other for about a week afterward. They'd apparently agreed that they could have lovers outside of each other at some point, and though they were still somewhat handsy, it had cooled down a bit.

The breaking point for Bruce and allowing sexual behavior had come when Stephanie got pregnant, however.

There had been a row between them, a demand of 'how can you expect to do your duties?' and a return reply of, 'well, the baby's there now, it's a moot point, Bruce!'

He'd been sort of secretly relieved she didn't abort. Sort of. He didn't particularly like the practice, seeing it as enabling men to see women as sex objects and nothing more, a very prevalent attitude in the Capitol.

On the other hand...Stephanie was a teenager. He'd certainly left the choice up to her, despite his rather controlling ways, because it was undeniably her choice and he would not infringe on that. Training, diet, general lifestyle—yes. Something like this? Definitely not. 

So, the baby had come, and Stephanie had gone through giving the baby up; at this point, she bonded very strongly with Tim. It was not an easy choice, and Bruce had to respect her for that. But the baby did not belong in their lives, and was probably safer with the middle-class sort of family they placed her with.

This had all led to the decree that there would be no sex among the wards, either with each other or anyone else.

Of course, that decree had raised an outcry, but Bruce had held firm.

What had developed, whether as a result or in spite of it, was what was apparently a sort of three-person relationship between Cass, Steph, and Tim. 

And Bruce was constantly having to step in.

Such as now.

On the screen, he could see Cass and Tim on Tim's bed, kissing hard. Tim's hands were hidden beneath Cass's shirt, and she in turn had her hands in his hair.

Then one hand ducked down to his crotch, and that was about when Bruce had had enough.

“Cass, Tim, cold shower. Now.”

He could hear Jason snickering loudly from his screen, hearing the intercom clearly, and shut it off.

The teenagers climbed off each other crossly, Tim looking slightly dazed but rather grumpy, and Cass giving a deadpan sort of look towards the camera.

“Don't need to,” she said flatly, the implication of Bruce's voice ruining things quite clear.

Tim was still flushed, but Cass took him by the wrist rather defiantly and started off towards the showers.

“Separate showers.” Bruce ground out, feeling himself glaring at the screen.

Cass assented. She had once basically worshiped the ground he walked on; now, she certainly had a mind of her own. However, she did lean in and give Tim a rather passionate, hard kiss on the lips, then looked pointedly at the camera.

Sometimes, Bruce feared she would turn into a Jason, if pushed too far.

But he was celibate, so he didn't think it was unfair to demand the same thing of his proteges.

Tim stumbled off to the showers.

Jason had returned sometime in the night. Supposedly, he needed to rest so he couldn't go to the day-party towards the afternoon; of course, in practice, this time had mostly been spent doing a combination of training and eating.

The kid would probably drop dead one of these days from neglecting the whole sleep thing.

Bruce sighed, and switched on the screen to Jason's room. He could see the dark bags under Jason's eyes, as he rather feverishly worked on a punching bag. It was a gel sort, designed to absorb blows. 

He had better go and talk to him, he decided. Blaring it over the intercom would not help anyone.

He made it up to Jason's room, opening the door without knocking—as was typical.

Jason looked over, grinned a bit. “Hey, Bruce. Now that you've doused the fires of love, you going to get a clue and get us all some sort fertility-inhibiting implant?”

Bruce gave him a flat look. “You know the risks of the current methods, Jason. Also, frankly, I need your bodies in top working order, and messing with hormones can--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jason grumbled, and he gave a rather sharp uppercut to the bag. He looked like hell, despite the cheeky grin from earlier.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, standing by the door.

“Ha, shit, what didn't happen?” Jason replied, socking the bag again. “I mean, I didn't get caught or anything, but it isn't every fucking day you see a kid's damn head blown open! I mean, brains and all that, ever wondered what color it is, cause I can tell you--”

“Jason. While this event is clearly...hard on you, I need you to stay focused. Get some sleep.”

Jason practically growled, slamming his fist into the bag once more. “Yeah, that's just what I need: nightmares about a girl's head exploding and splattering on me. Yup, just perfect, I love having my sleep interrupted by gruesome nightmares.”

Bruce frowned. He didn't really know how to deal with Jason, because the boy was honestly rather prickly and defiant. Yes, he wanted to be here, but that didn't mean he wanted to do things like take orders. Which was kind of ironic, given that he came from probably the lowest background out of all of them.

He went for authoritarian. “Jason, if you don't go to sleep now, I'll tranquilize you.”

And he had done it, in the past, so grudgingly, Jason threw himself on the bed.

“Happy, Bruce? I'm going to sleep now.”

“Yes. I'm very happy,” Bruce said rather flatly.

He left Jason to hopefully sleep. He knew that the images seared into their brains probably affected them, but he also knew that such things were inevitable. If they weren't seeing them with him, they would eventually see them in the revolution.

Not to mention the Hunger Games themselves, which were extremely violent and brutal.

Yes, this society was full of violence and bloodshed—it was just that much of the Capitol society covered it up with frills and distractions.

He returned to his screen, and saw Steph's blinking light not far from the edge of the District she was in. Good. She would be returning home soon.

In the meantime, he changed into party clothes, and changed into his party boy face.

The party was at a friend's house, the Falcone family. They were really Batman's enemies, heavily involved in rather corrupt, but technically legal, operations, but they were Bruce Wayne's friends.

The place was huge, shimmering walls and glittering glass chandeliers in complex configurations. Lights were on a sort of glowing hue, just enough to make the accompanying sunlight completely drench the room with light. The food was stacked and arranged all over about fifty tables, though there were hundreds of guests, so this was not too extreme for a Capitol party.

Women in big, fluffy feather eyelashes and coats, as feathers were in, flitted about, and men in suits with huge pompadour hair and 'clever' arrows pointing downward milled among the crowd. Of course, people were far more unique than just that, but if you had to average out the crowd, that's what you'd end up with.

Cass and Tim were still clearly cross with him. Sure, Tim put on a smile for the party, but it was clearly very fake, and he tended to make small talk awkward on purpose to get people to leave him alone.

Cass, on the other hand, rather obviously flirted with Tim when 'no one was looking.' Incest, especially 'technical' incest, was not completely disallowed or disapproved of, but it still would make juicy news for the tabloids.

She was getting her deviousness from Jason, Bruce swore. She had never been like this before Jason and her had started doing some of their missions together.

A woman with dyed blue and red hair, one half each, and sporting very blue eyes, came up to him then. “Hello, Mr. Wayne! It's a pleasure to meet you! My name's Dr. Harleen Quinzel; how are you doing this evening?”

He took in her checked outfit; it wasn't the most extreme at the party, honestly. He took her hand, shaking it. “It's a pleasure for me as well, Dr. Quinzel! Might I say, you may be a doctor, but you certainly don't look like the stereotype.”

She grinned at that, releasing his hand after a fairly firm handshake. “Well, you know, I take after my mom.” As was a fairly common, though generally untrue, response. “I'm a doctor of psychology, and I've recently been promoted into a high position within the government's department—I know this is off hours, and a party, but I was wondering if your company would be interested in contributing to our research.”

His company was based in District 3, the electronics producing district. The way such a thing worked was not what little was described of property ownership in his historical records; instead, he was merely in charge, and if he displeased enough people, there was a huge likelihood that he would be taken out of that position.

However, he was quite liked in that position, because he did pretty well with production and especially encouraging invention. With as poor as they were, a small incentive of extra food or money was plenty to push inventors to work hard, as well as recognition within the company.

Of course, if Harleen wanted the information, she could just get it ordered from him. But the fact she was asking was a good sign.

He nodded. “Of course,” he had little other choice, “I'll be sure to forward along whatever you need. Send the details to my secretary, please.”

Harleen smiled again, saying, “Mm. Perhaps I might _get_ some details from your secretary as well, such as, when you're free?”

Bruce could have grimaced, but he smiled charmingly. “Take it up with her, then. I'd love to see you one on one, Dr. Quinzel. Of course, I'm a busy man, but I make room in my schedule for beautiful women.”

She gave a knowing smile back. “Of course, Mr. Wayne. Hopefully, we will see each other soon.” She pecked his cheek, and headed for a bowl of shimmering punch.

Bruce sighed, then saw Cass defiantly holding Tim's hand as they stood there talking with an important socialite with glittering silver hair.

It was going to be a long party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, I hope this was okay. I kinda wrote this in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep. I also made Bruce's views differ from my own in some ways regarding abortion, but hey, that doesn't necessarily make him wrong or bad. 
> 
> Also, I had fun. While I feel this Cassandra Cain is perhaps more sexual than typical DCU Cassandra Cain, I also feel that there might be some difference between universes and that she is capable of such things. Both she and Tim are demisexual in this story. :)


End file.
